


Mine, mine, mine.

by runwithbelief



Category: Outlast (Video Games)
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, C-boy, Dirty Talk, Dubious Consent, M/M, Non-Consensual Bondage, Omorashi, Penetrative Sex, Piss, Possessive Behavior, Roughness, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-06
Updated: 2019-02-06
Packaged: 2019-10-23 09:29:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17680853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/runwithbelief/pseuds/runwithbelief
Summary: I wrote this back in 2014 and it's completely self-indulgent. Also, Miles has a vagina because that's my headcanon for him. Trager/Miles is my Outlast OTP and I like to explore the good, the bad, and the unhealthy.If you have a problem with my headcanon for Miles or who I ship him with, I don't care. Warnings were placed. If you don't like it, don't read, don't comment.For everyone else, I hope you enjoy! I thought I'd put this here since I'm not finished with any recent fics yet, but don't worry, they're on the way!





	Mine, mine, mine.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this back in 2014 and it's completely self-indulgent. Also, Miles has a vagina because that's my headcanon for him. Trager/Miles is my Outlast OTP and I like to explore the good, the bad, and the unhealthy. 
> 
> If you have a problem with my headcanon for Miles or who I ship him with, I don't care. Warnings were placed. If you don't like it, don't read, don't comment. 
> 
> For everyone else, I hope you enjoy! I thought I'd put this here since I'm not finished with any recent fics yet, but don't worry, they're on the way!

_I was so fucking naive_ , Miles thought bitterly to himself as he sat against his will in a wheelchair. There wasn't much he could do about it—his wrists and ankles were bound. He remembered the fear, the running, his heart pounding so hard he could feel it in his head. Then there was a dead end, and Miles was sure that'd be the end of him, but then he heard a voice. Someone normal—someone like him! Miles remembered feeling so hopeful and relieved and grateful as he climbed into that cramped dumbwaiter, and gave the most shit-eating grin to the variants that busted down the door too late.

 

When the dumbwaiter stopped and he first caught a glimpse of his believed hero, he was confused by his appearance, sure, but he had no room to judge a man who had just saved his life—or so he thought. Next thing he knew a fist came surging to his gut, and then another at his temple, and he doubled over into the man's arms. Stunned, betrayed, and exhausted, Miles couldn't find anymore adrenaline to do a goddamn thing about it when the bastard put him in the wheelchair and strapped him in.

 

He didn't have the energy to talk, nor did he really feel like carrying a conversation with this sick fuck. Miles was furious. Even as Trager taunted him by showing him the doors outside, Miles' only retaliation was silence. He wasn't going to give Trager the satisfaction, although he knew that Trager knew better. This one was intelligent, somewhat lucid, and that's what scared the hell out of him.

 

“The silent treatment, eh?” Trager asked casually as he pushed the wheelchair along. “Aw buddy, c'mon, don't scorn me. It ain't anything personal—if I hadn't hit you, you woulda wiggled and squirmed and—Well, we can't have that, can we?” Miles continued to remain silent. _Go fuck yourself on the gear shift of your Audi_.

 

It was when Miles saw all the blood and all of Trager's mutilated patients and heard their cries of agony and their pleas for death did Miles pale. There was something else, another problem, and Miles cursed under his breath, which caught Trager's interest. “Hm? You say something, buddy?”

 

Miles couldn't remember the last chance he had to relieve himself—he was too scared to even try in most places. He didn't want anyone seeing him with his pants off, squatting, pissing in some corner. He'd be killed or—or worse.

 

The pressure was too much to bear, and it hurt, God it hurt, and the fear was coming back to him and—Miles' eyes widened and his face flushed red. He tried to hold his legs as close together as possible as he squirmed in his spot. He could feel Trager's eyes on him, and tears began to well up in his eyes. _This is humiliating—of all the times I could—fuck, oh my God—_

 

“Shhh,” he heard, and a long, bony finger brushed over his cheek, just under his eye, catching a tear. “C'mon buddy, don't _cry_. It happens to the best of us.” Miles watched as Trager lifted the finger to his mouth, licking the tear off with a long, thick tongue. Miles shuddered.

 

Trager took the handles of the wheelchair again and made a different turn. “Don't you worry, Doctor Trager's gonna clean you up and take real good care of you,” he reassured, but Miles only continued to shudder.

 

He was wheeled to a patient's bed, and Trager stepped away only to pull the blinds around it. Miles figured it was for privacy's sake, and he was glad. The small amount of relief Miles felt soon left him once Trager started to unbind him from the wheelchair and lift him up. “N-No—!” Miles cried, squirming against Trager. Trager shoved him down into the patient's bed, bony fingers and long nails digging hard into Miles' arms to pin him, and leaned close to murmur into the younger man's ear.

 

“Hey...Hey now, didn't you listen to me? I said I'm gonna clean you up...gonna take good care of you...” Miles shivered, and turned his head further away. He hated the breath against his ear, hated how it felt like Trager's teeth were at his spine, and hated how it made him obedient.

 

“Look at me.” Trager demanded softly at first, but Miles could hear him barely holding back his impatience. It wasn't a second later that he was grabbed roughly by the chin, cheeks squished together. “I said look at me.”

 

Miles lifted his reddened eyes to meet Trager's, and glared through his tears. He saw the doctor's expression soften. “Beautiful eyes you got, buddy...” he mused, his grip on Miles' chin easing up, instead brushing a thumb dangerously close to one of his eyes. “Green's kinda rare...and you got this...this ring of gold around your pupils...” Trager leaned in closer, and Miles kept still for him.

 

Trager was quiet for a few moments longer, and Miles was glad he was distracted by his eyes—but what if this hack-job tried taking his eyes? He was so infatuated with them, after all. Trager seemed to notice this concern, and brushed his thumb near Miles' eye again. “Shh...” he cooed. “Don't worry, I want those eyes looking at _me_...” Miles' brows furrowed. What the fuck did he mean by that?

 

“Anyhoo, where were we? Ah, that's right. You made a big ol' mess, didn't you?” Trager looked down at Miles' soiled jeans, and Miles turned his head away, ashamed. He was being stripped down—his leather jacket was first to go, only so that Trager could bind his wrists to the bed frame. His jeans were next to go, and Miles started to squirm and try to hold his legs together again.

 

Trager was stronger than you'd think an old, leathery nutcase, would be, though, and he quickly removed Miles' jeans, then went for his underwear. “No!” Miles yelled, and Trager stroked his leg in an attempt to soothe him. “Buddy, you gotta work with me here. You can only sit in piss for so long until it becomes unsanitary. C'mon now, settle down...”

 

Miles turned his head to hide his face into his arm as Trager removed his underwear, and there was a moment of silence. “Look at _that_ ,” he heard the doctor purr. Miles reluctantly turned his head, looking at the older man warily. Trager grinned. “I can see why you'd try hidin' it—It's _beautiful._ ” Trager lingered for a moment longer before he moved to grab a washcloth and soaked it in warm water, then returned to his newest patient.

 

Tenderly, he lifted one of Miles' legs and began to clean the piss off of him gently, paying special attention to Miles' pussy. Miles shivered, his brows twitching. The warmth of the washcloth between his thighs was soothing, and being cleaned like this was personal—intimate. The care and attention he was receiving, and the way Trager gently cleaned his pussy was starting to excite him. _I must be losing my goddamn mind. What the hell am I thinking? What is my body doing? This is stupid and dangerous, he's gonna notice..._

 

And the doctor _did_ notice how the lips between Miles' thighs flushed and glistened. “Did that feel good?” Trager asked in a low, quiet voice. He set the washcloth aside. Miles was clean minutes ago, Trager just couldn't stop himself from gently cleaning and rubbing, and by the looks of it, Miles enjoyed it a lot more than he'd care to let on.

 

Trager slid his fingertips up Miles' thigh, and the younger man shivered and nearly melted at the touch. Trager's fingers met Miles' pussy, and he swirled his index finger over the swelling clit while he used a thumb to pull aside one of his lips. “Your cunt's so _wet_...for me? I'm flattered.” Trager chuckled, and slid his middle finger between Miles' lips—and Miles tensed up immediately. “W-Wait!” he pleaded, eyes wide. Trager blinked. “Have...Have you seen your nails? Those claws aren't fuckhole friendly!”

 

Trager snorted, then laughed, his chest and shoulders moving as he did. “I knew you had a sense of humor! You and me, buddy, we're getting somewhere...” His laughter died down and he shook his head. “No no, you're right, you're right...but I wouldn't even have to use my fingers, would I? You got the smallest little cunt, but I'm sure it's used to...” Trager's breath wavered in excitement. “...used to taking it rough. You look like the type that likes to be stuffed and filled, am I right?”

 

Miles bit his lip and struggled weakly against his binds. Trager leaned over him and kissed his shoulder. “Am I right?” he repeated, and Miles knew his patience was going to wear thin again, especially now that he was excited. “Y...Yes...” Miles answered.

 

“What a good boy...” Trager purred, stroking Miles' pussy to reward him. Miles twitched, and looked up at Trager, unaware of the face he was making. Trager smirked. “You like that, huh? Like being called a good boy...? Mmn, you keep being a good boy and ol' Rick will reward you...

 

“I like that look on your face,” he continued, rubbing two fingers between the inner lips, his fingers quickly becoming slick. Trager shuddered. He couldn't wait to bury his cock between those lips and drown in Miles' cunt. “You look like you're drugged and helpless...the way you look at me...” Trager hissed, rubbing harder, making Miles twitch again, and a whimper escaped his throat “Like I'm the only one who can help you...Good. Very good...”

 

Then, something else caught Trager's eye, and Miles followed his gaze. _Oh no_. His eyes had landed on Miles' camera, and they lit up with an idea. “Heh, home movies? Y'know...let's make a movie of our own...” he trailed off, taking the camera and setting it up. Miles looked at Trager's bare ass and made a face. _Don't get turned on, Miles. Think about that wrinkly, waxy ass tensing when he slams in..._ Miles turned his head away, tears lining his eyes out of frustration.

 

Trager returned to him, and Miles' eyes widened in fear and anticipation. “Now, where were we? Ah, yes...” He slid both hands up Miles' thighs, and carefully pulled apart his pussy lips with his thumbs. Miles shuddered, feeling his pussy twitch. Trager tilted his head, admiring it, his cock twitching with every twitch of Miles' pussy, and it throbbed as he watched the wetness run down between Miles' ass cheeks. “Shit, buddy, that cunt o' yours is gonna make a hell of a puddle...” he purred, licking over his teeth.

 

He leaned down, sliding his long, thick tongue between those lips, tasting Miles. Miles jolted, tossing his head back when Trager did, and the doctor hummed in approval. Miles' eyes darted towards the camera, then quickly back to the man between his thighs. He would show the world the evidence of what happened here, even if that meant they had to watch him get fucked by a former executive of Murkoff. The humiliation he would face and the humiliation he _was_ facing should've done anything but make him wetter.

 

Miles' thoughts were brought back to the doctor's mouth at his entrance, and he arched off of the mattress when Trager sucked on his clit. “No, no more, no more...” he breathed, eyes clouded and mouth wet. “We're not done here yet, buddy,” was Trager's only response before he went back to work. Lapping between the lips, sucking and swirling his tongue around the clit, then pushing his long tongue inside. Trager groaned, reaching down to grab his cock through his apron, and Miles' hips twitched and bucked helplessly. Miles whined, whimpered, panted, tears lining his eyes, and he felt himself tensing up more and more, his breathing becoming short and quick and—and—

 

Miles arched, brows knitted, and whined loudly as he came. Trager smirked and started lapping it all up, which only made Miles tense and twitch and attempt to hold his legs together. Trager didn't let him, though.

 

The weight on the bed shifted as Trager climbed over Miles, and Miles could only look up at him through half-lidded eyes. Trager tilted his head, admiring his newest patient again. “Your eyes are so beautiful when you cry...” he began, leaning down to kiss over the younger man's cheekbone. “The redness, the way your long lashes get wet and matted...” Miles shuddered again.

 

Trager kissed his way down to Miles' shoulder, and Miles tilted his head back, strangely soothed by the tenderness the doctor gave him. It did disturb him, and he was scared, but those little kisses made him melt. That was one of the weirdest things yet.

 

Miles heard the rustling of fabric or something and let his gaze lower. Trager had pushed aside his apron, revealing his long, thick cock. It was heavily veined, and the head was slick with precome. Miles shivered, and his hips twitched involuntarily. Trager leaned down enough to press his cock between those flushed, wet lips and began to rut between them. Miles' hips bucked and he moaned loud, and it felt like his face and his ears were burning when he heard just how wet he was. Trager's cock was becoming coated in it, and he groaned, more precome leaking from the swollen head of his cock.

 

He watched Trager rut and rub, then lifted his gaze to the doctor's face. Trager, however, seemed fixated on how Miles' pussy lips squished against his swollen cock. He felt Miles' gaze, though, and lifted his own. The face Miles was making was a beautiful sight, too. “Nnh, fuck...the way you're lookin' at me, buddy...Lookin' at me like you've been fucked raw already—Well, don't you worry about that...I'm gonna pound all your little fuckholes. Yeah, you'd like that, wouldn't you?” Miles only responded in breathy whines and whimpers and moans, which was more than enough for Trager.

 

Trager couldn't take it anymore—his cock throbbed and his balls ached heavily. He spread Miles apart, and prodded and pressed at his entrance, loving how it twitched at the contact. Miles' breathing became fast again, and he looked back down at the situation between his legs. Trager only managed to push the head of his cock in before something amazing happened—Miles' pussy swallowed the rest of him in, and he grabbed and gripped at the edge of the hospital bed to support himself. “Fuck!” Trager growled, leaking heavily inside of Miles' cunt. Miles tossed his head back, his stomach tensing when he had swallowed almost all of Trager's length in.

 

“Fuck...fuck...” Trager groaned, regaining his composure, though he trembled for a moment. “Do you know what you did...? Your little cunt swallowed me in...Mmn, you slippery little whore, I almost came inside you just now...” Miles breathed out a long moan, gazing up at Trager through heavy-lidded eyes.

 

The doctor used one hand to grip Miles' hip, too roughly, nails scraping against his skin and his grip probably bruising him, while the other rested on Miles' thigh, his thumb pressing and rubbing at the clit hard. Miles clenched and fluttered around Trager's cock, and that's when Trager began to rock his hips forward.

 

He wasn't gentle, but Miles liked how his cock moved in and out of him, and how that thick, swollen head kept hitting his sweet spot. “Ohh, fuck...” Miles mewled, lips parted and wet just like the ones between his thighs. Trager leaned down until he was nearly pressed against the man under him, he slid his hands up to grip at Miles' waist, tugging him into his thrusts. “There...that's better isn't it?” he grunted, their pelvises slapping together, stimulating Miles' clit. “You like being pinned like this, don't you? Ngh...”

 

It felt so fucking good and Miles knew it wouldn't be much longer until he came again. Trager pushed in deeper, started fucking him harder, and his balls began to slap against his ass, and it made Miles' head swim. The sounds of their fucking, the way Trager held him and the way he fucked him—Miles loved it, craved it, and he could feel how sore his pussy was getting from Trager's merciless pounding, and he wanted more.

 

Miles writhed under Trager, but not in attempts to escape. He writhed and sighed and moaned, being bounced a little by Trager's wild thrusts. “F-Fuck...! Ohh God—!” Miles cried, tears lining his eyes again. He felt himself tensing up, and the wonderful heat in his belly building up. It wouldn't be much longer now.

 

Trager was barely holding back himself. He may have been an old, leathery bastard, but he had stamina, and he wasn't gonna let himself come before his little pet did. “Come for me,” he growled into Miles' ear. “Come all over my fuckin' cock...” he hissed through his teeth. Miles jolted, and released almost immediately at Trager's command.

 

He tensed up all around Trager and threw his head back, screaming loudly as he came. The way that tight little cunt heated up around him and swallowed him in hungrily was too much for Trager to hold back any longer—and his cock was milked nearly dry as he emptied himself into Miles.

 

“Ahh, fuck...!” Trager howled, giving a few more spastic thrusts to get every last drop of his load inside of his little patient. Miles rolled his hips to help milk it all out, and Trager shuddered, nearly doubling over.

 

They both panted, but Trager leaned down closer until they were flush together, and pressed a kiss to Miles' lips, lapping and sucking and nibbling and tugging. Miles returned the kiss, dazed and fucked into obedience. Trager purred. “I'm gonna give you a little break, buddy...you've more than earned it. But don't you worry...Ol' Rick's gonna take good care of you.”

 

Slowly, he pulled out, and his cock twitched at the sight of come trailing from the head of his cock to the entrance of Miles' cunt. He grinned, reaching over and placed his palm onto Miles' stomach, gently pressing down and watching as more come leaked out of the younger man. His cock was starting to harden again, but he did promise Miles a little break.

 

He would simply touch and caress and pet and nibble and kiss and suck and bite all over Miles. His Miles. His. “You're mine now,” he growled into Miles' ear before kissing just under it. “Mine...” he breathed. As obedient as Miles had been, he refused to answer, but it didn't matter to Trager. “All mine. Mine, mine, mine...”

 


End file.
